


Bury a Friend

by rosedarkling



Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogeko, Okegom, funamusea, 廃れ夢 | Obsolete Dream, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Animal Death, Bullying, Childhood, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Other, minor suicidal talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: It's never easy to lose someone, much less a best friend. Brothers can be so cruel sometimes.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Bury a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey! I have 50 ideas and want to write them all! This is one of those ideas. XD 
> 
> I could probably turn this into a mini series or honestly even make it longer, but I think this is good for now. I just reallllly wanted to get this fic out! Ever since we got a Skeb of child Fumus, I have been so eager to write this. Now, thanks to the lovely Ruko and their amazing fic - (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30003054) - I have been inspired to get my butt in gear and put this out. Go check out Ruko's heart-wrenching work, and I hope you enjoy this one, too. 
> 
> Hoping to get even more fics done soon, but also really enjoying the Mogeko March challenges. Hope to do you all proud! Love you, and God bless! :D <3

Satanick kneeled down next to his friend – his most precious, precious friend. His friend was always so soft and sweet. Never did he shy away from Satanick’s attention or affections. Every day when Satanick would bring him food and fresh water, his friend’s little nose would eagerly wiggle. Loving pats on the head and strokes on the body would reward both the giver and receiver with all of the comforts they needed in one another. It was always a joy for Satanick to come home from a long day and get the opportunity to let his friend roam freely from his cage. Satanick would be right alongside him on his stomach, happily smiling as he propped his chin up in his palms as his elbows dug into the soft carpeting of his bedroom. These special moments would forever remain in Satanick’s heart; he vowed it every day then, and he vowed it now.

Even with his small, pale fingers digging into the soft earth underneath the large tree, Satanick vowed that he would forever treasure the memories of his dearly beloved rabbit.

Nothing had alerted Satanick to anything being amiss when he had returned home this particular day. It had been a bit of a stressful one with schooling, but he honestly did not mind. He enjoyed learning, and it always excited him to gain knowledge that would be useful for his future. That being said, the little jibes and bullying from his older brother did reach his heart after a while, so focusing on exams was a bit of a chore some days more than others. It was simple things that many children frequently went through. A hair tug here, a push into the mud there – all of it was fairly commons things to deal with. It was not exactly pleasant, but Satanick could deal with these minor inconveniences. He wasn’t fond of his clothes getting dirty, but it was better than being forced to eat the dirt. He could still taste the gritty, earthy muck in his mouth despite it having been a few weeks. No matter how much time had passed, Fumus’s bullying seemed to worsen with each passing day. Some days were more extreme than others, so Satanick tried to take all of it in stride. Besides, he had others he could rely on for comfort and aide when needed. Though – he had to admit – he never exactly explained to any others what happened when a new bruise or scrape would appear on his body. None of that mattered at the end of the day, anyway.

All that mattered was that he had someone that loved him unconditionally and never judged him for his ugly tree-like horns.

Someone that never punched or poked him with sharp things when no one else was watching.

Someone that depended on him to take care of them. 

Now….

Satanick’s fingers slowed down as they mindlessly dug the makeshift hole. The hardest part had been getting rid of the grass and first few clumps. It had become a bit easier the further he dug down, expanding the hole with each claw of his tiny hands. Dirt caked his flesh, and the grittiness underneath each of his fingernails was a bit discomforting to say the least. He didn’t mind getting dirty – he was a boy, after all, and he could be quite rambunctious when he wanted to be during his playtime. Nevertheless, now was so, so horribly different than anything that could be considered as carefree as a romp through the gardens or woods that stretched out for miles around the large mansion.

His vision was becoming distorted and blurry, and for a moment Satanick thought he was going blind. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to be out in the shade of such a large weeping willow while dusk was settling in. Even if he was a demon, he did not want to risk damaging his eyesight.

 _Ah, that’s right,_ he reminded himself. _I am a demon._ He was not bound to the laws or nature of mortality. Many of his bodily functions and life itself would not be stunted or damaged so easily as that of other creatures. He had been told all of these years that “the young master and his brother are quite special.”

If someone so special as himself could house such gifts, why wasn’t his best friend blessed with even the tiniest of things? Why was his fluffy, white companion’s life expectancy so low? Deep down, Satanick knew that a rabbit did not live as long as human beings did, let alone immortals. He knew that, and yet it still squeezed his heart in such a painful vice to know that he would never get the chance to spend another sweet day with his best friend. Never again would he get to stroke his softness, feel his warmth – let him melt away any pain that the days and nights had burdened him with.

Satanick bent over in the fetal position, his chest now hitting his knees as he leaned forward. His head felt as if it was going to explode from all of the pressure building up inside of it. Even as gigantic tears spilled from his eyes and he let snot drip freely from his nostrils, the tiny demon could only wish for death to take him instead.

 _It would be better this way,_ he thought, a choked sob leaving his mouth, though he tried to stifle himself the best he could. Even if this particular area of the grounds was a bit more excluded from the rest of the extensive yard, he did not want to risk anyone finding him out here. He did not want anyone to see him in such a wretched, vulnerable moment. Many had witnessed him with only small concerns like the unexplained cut on his cheek or the bruises on his porcelain knees, but Satanick was used to such matters. It was much easier to put on a fake smile and reassure his caretakers that everything was perfectly fine; that a little trip over his clumsy feet was nothing to be concerned over.

This time he could not afford anyone to see him in such a state. Not his caretakers and certainly not his brother.

Satanick’s tightly shut eyes practically flung open as a horrifying, sinking sensation reached his stomach. It sunk his gut like a stone, and he could only curl up tighter into himself. Not caring that his hands were encased in dirt, he wrapped his arms around his chest as tightly as he could as if to hug himself. More so, it was to try to keep himself together so he would not shatter. Everything felt so cold now, and not just from the setting sun.

His mouth hung open in disbelief as another choked sob echoed out from his closing throat. His black nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his once pristine dress shirt.

No…. Surely Fumus wouldn’t have…? Not someone as helpless and defenseless as his best friend….

“Ghhghh!” The child let out a garbled cry as he tried to hold it back, though he knew it was pointless. What did it matter if someone saw him? What would be the point of trying to cover up the fact that his rabbit was dead? He would only have to fabricate a lie to explain the reasoning as to why this was, but his foggy, splitting head was not allowing him to formulate such a thing.

No; it would be best if nobody saw.

Tightly squeezing his body onto itself with his hands clutching at his triceps, Satanick forced himself to sniffle back whatever tears and phlegm that congregated to the forefront of his face. Even as his body shook, he slowly unfurled himself. His stomach ached so badly, but he had to finish the job. It was only getting darker with each wasted minute that passed.

As quickly as he could, Satanick resumed his almost frantic clawing at the dirt, widening the hole the best he could. Come to think of it, this was the first time he had dug a grave for something or someone, hadn’t he? An ever growing boy need to learn all sorts of skills, right? That half-hearted comfort would sustain him for now.

Logical thoughts were best to think during times of crisis.

With the makeshift grave as deep and wide as he could felt the specifications should be for a rabbit this size, Satanick leaned back on his haunches. Some of his nerves had steadied out thanks to the exertion of clawing, yet he still occasionally twitched as he realized the next thing that needed to be done. Slowly, Satanick looked towards his left. Sure enough, his once vibrant, warm friend lie perfectly still beside his knee. No movement. No breathing. Just stillness. Even his hands protested as he reached out towards his dear bunny; the muscles themselves felt as if they were contracting to pull back, repulsed that he was even doing such a thing. What choice did he have, though? If he didn’t do this, then who would? Who would possibly give such a faithful companion the proper love and respect they deserved? Of course, only Satanick was capable of meeting these requirements.

His hands slipped underneath the soft body of his beloved pet, and it was all he could do to not crumble to pieces. He should be the one being placed into the hole – not his bunny. He should be the one being covered up with fistfuls of dirt that marred the perfect white fur. He should be the one that should have suffered….

….

How long he was out there, Satanick did not know. He could reason that enough time had passed since he was now staring at the outline of the small mound of dirt. It wasn’t quite difficult to see in the dark, but it certainly helped having most of the moon out tonight. Was it waxing or waning? He felt he knew the terminology, but it was so hard to recollect what the right one was. Perhaps he should study more once he returned back home.

The tears had long since dried up, now only remaining as cold streaks on Satanick’s cheeks. It paired quite well with the numbing sensation in his legs thanks to kneeling on them for an extended period of time on the hard ground. Finally able to tear his gaze away from the brown pile, Satanick turned his purple eyes upwards. Through the long tendrils of the tree, he could just make out glimpses of the moon. Maybe his rabbit was up there resting in peace. He could only pray for such a thing.

Slowly rising to his feet, it took a moment for the feeling to return and the tingling to stop, but once they did, the young boy wiped at his face with his long sleeves. He did not want to risk returning looking so distraught. He hoped that his puffy eyes and droopy eyelids would not give away that he had been crying. His little black shoes slightly shuffled across the grass as he turned on his heel, his gaze now meeting that of the myriad of light pinpricks off in the distance. He also prayed that the staff of the mansion would not notice he had been gone so long or questioned his whereabouts. If he was quick enough, perhaps he could sneak in unawares and wash up before dinner. His stomach was growling by now, but in its churning state, Satanick honestly did not feel the least bit hungry.

A final, forlorn look back over his shoulder at the resting place of his beloved pet – no, his beloved friend – Satanick held back the quiver on his lip as he slowly began the long trek back towards home. Each step took him further and further away from the scene, and he could not help but feel as if he was the criminal that had committed such an atrocious act. It was almost comedic to think that this was all some sort of mal intent. Animals died all the time; why should this be any different?

But it _was_ different.

It was different because the interred creature in the shallow hole was not a typical varmint.

He was Satanick’s one and only confidant he could rely on in these strange, uncertain times. With him gone, Satanick was now floundering around in a sea that he honestly could not find the bottom of.

Pausing in his steps, Satanick knew that looking back was only going to further drag the dagger into his already aching heart, yet he felt compelled to. It was almost as if an unseen force was calling out to him to look back one more time. Nothing out of the ordinary caught his eye as dark shadows played in the moonlight. The light rustle of an evening breeze blew by, and Satanick took notice of it for the first time that evening. As nocturnal sounds of life began stirring, Satanick found himself whispering out, “Goodbye, my sweet, dear friend. I’ll always remember you.”

Turning around once more, Satanick continued his journey back towards home. However, the oppressive air over his heart only reminded Satanick that a house was simply not a home if no love or companionship could be found in it. 

….

The ticking of the large grandfather clock at the end of the foyer’s hallway methodically ticked by as its pendulum swayed back and forth. It was a comforting sound most of the time to know that time kept marching ever onwards, but the longer it took Satanick to return, the more impatient Fumus was becoming. Sitting on a wooden chest on the right hand side of the foyer, he stared across the small mudroom area at the missing pair of shoes that housed Satanick’s. Already, Fumus found a tiny grin creeping across his face as he imagined just how dirty they must be now. He knew exactly where Satanick had gone off to after he had returned home. It all happened to work out so well, too. Fumus having been the first one to arrive had left him with plenty of time to prepare his surprise gift for his little brother. Honestly, he had expected a scream to ring out from his brother’s room down the hall from his, so he was initially shocked to see Satanick had carefully snuck out of the mansion, cradling the deceased rabbit closely to his chest. A simple watch of his actions, and Fumus knew that he would be outside burying his dearly deceased pet. Just what was the hold up? The excitement had Fumus silently vibrating in place.

The metallic clunking of the gilded door knob being turned and the creaking of one of the large wooden doors alerted Fumus that dear baby brother had finally returned. As much as he wanted to smile and begin laughing, he wiped the look off his face, simply turning his head to watch as the door swung open, letting in a cool waft of the evening air. Sluggishly, Satanick made his way into the enclave. His white shirt was marred with dirty finger prints around the ruffled neck and wrists. His knees had been wiped clean of whatever debris had stuck to him, yet the faded smudges were still visible against his pale skin. White socks and black shoes were also caked in such filth. However, what Fumus loved to see the most was Satanick’s downcast expression. His shaggy black hair was a bit matted to his head in some places, and Fumus chalked that up to sweating. Even if his eyes were returning to normal, bloodshot red could still be seen in the corners. What a sad, pitiful sight; it was almost enough to make the grin return to Fumus’s face, though he held it back.

Now fully in the room, Satanick closed the door behind himself. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting that hung overhead, yet his eyes soon met those of Fumus. He visibly stiffened up, but he tried to play it off as if nothing was amiss. “H – Hi, Fumus,” Satanick piped up, making his voice as cheerful as he could.

“Good evening,” Fumus chimed in, his deeper tone almost mocking Satanick as he joined in the pleasantries. After all, it payed to play the part of a cheerful older brother lest any adults come around should they have heard the front door. Thankfully, no footsteps or voices could be heard – only that of the ticking clock. Fumus allowed a tiny smile to upturn the corners of his mouth as Satanick shuffled over towards the shoe rack, kicking off his dirtied footwear. As he bent down to retrieve them and place them in the open spot next to Fumus’s, the elder asked, “So, where were you this evening? I missed my chance getting to spend some play time with you before dinner.”

If it was possible, Fumus could have sworn he saw Satanick’s hair stand on end as he once more shivered at Fumus’s questions and implications. “I, uh, I was just out playing in the gardens. I like being out with the flowers.” True enough about loving the foliage, but it still tasted rancid to lie to Fumus. They both knew that such fabrications never worked on him.

“Ah, what a shame,” Fumus said, a light sigh leaving his lips. He swung his feet back and forth as he perched on the edge of the chest he was sitting on. The light thumping of his sock-clad feet joined in with the nearby grandfather clock. He hung his head a bit, his dark gray locks shadowing his face. Whenever he shifted, it was easier to take notice of the red undertones in his hair. In a way, he hated how Satanick’s hair was thicker than his; it covered up most of his red, and that was something that Fumus was not sure he liked. After all, the two were brothers, and everything about Satanick should reflect him in one way or the other.

Peeking through the strands of hair in front of his face, Fumus could make out the somewhat fearful phlox irises of his younger sibling as Satanick now faced him. “I… I’m sorry, Fumus,” Satanick stuttered out, though he tried to keep a small smile on his lips, as if offering a comfort to the elder. “I promise we can… play together next time. Okay?”

Slowing raising his head, Fumus met Satanick’s gaze once more, only this time, his eyes were lit up with that familiar spark that Satanick had begun to fear. He wanted Fumus to have fun and enjoy life, but at what cost…?

“That sounds like a good plan, Satanick,” Fumus whispered back. He raised his head the rest of the way, a new smile plastered on his face as he closed his eyes in happiness; another show for any passersby, no doubt. “I look forward to it.”

A few moments of silence passed between them, and all Satanick could do was manage a nod. He tried to gather saliva back into his drying mouth as he swallowed back the anxiety that was still coursing throughout his veins. Turning on his heel, he made his way up the small step into the main part of the foyer. He began traversing down the hallway towards the right. He did have to admit that watching the pendulum of the clock swing back and forth in its casing was quite soothing in its own way, but the repeated _tick-tick-tick_ was only further jumping his already palpating heart to its rhythm.

The soft patter of his socks on the wooden floor now gave way to another set that followed behind him. The younger did not have to turn to know whom exactly was following him. Still, he found himself looking over his right shoulder to see Fumus following a bit behind him. A simple white, short-sleeve shirt and black shorts resembled Satanick’s, though a bit more plain. His long gray socks were held up with sock garters. In his own way, Fumus and Satanick resembled each other in their posh clothing style. In all honesty, that… was the only similarity that Satanick wanted to hold alongside him. To ever say such a thing would be horribly foolish on his part. Never would he dare utter such a thing in Fumus’s presence.

As Satanick made his way to the somewhat large half-bathroom in the middle of the hallway that was typically used for guests, Fumus began chatting with him. It seemed random at first, yet Satanick tried to pay attention the best he could over the blood rushing in his ears. His heart ached trying to ease its poundings.

“We were studying about animals today in my classes, Satanick. It’s very fascinating stuff, if I must say. The anatomy of birds, fish, and mammals are quite different than our own.”

He did not want to hear about animals – not now…. Still, Satanick held his tongue, pressing his lips tightly together lest he speak out of turn. His hand on the golden handle of the bathroom door, Fumus continued on.

“You know what’s funny about mammals, Satanick – they are fairly close to the human species. In a way, I suppose they could be considered relatively close to us, as well. After all, they are warm-blooded just like us. Hearts that beat just like us.” A slight pause in his speech as he noticed Satanick’s hand resting on the handle without turning it. The perfect opportunity to drive home his point….

“Necks that snap so easily if twisted just the right way.”

Fumus could have practically laughed out loud when Satanick spun around, his eyes widened in fright. The pupils constricted in terror as reality began to sink in on him. His mouth agape, it opened and closed in small quivers as Satanick seemingly gasped for breath. Fumus likened this expression to be like that of a fish without water, or perhaps more suitably like a rabbit that had no breath left in him. Satanick’s legs weakened as his knees knocked together. His back thumped against the white door and his dirty fingers rested against its surface, as if trying to meld himself through the wood to the other side – away from Fumus; away from this horrible truth.

“Y – You....” Satanick’s voice finally managed to squeak out this one syllable. Fumus finally gave in to the feeling and let out a laugh. He could not hold it in anymore. The sheer look of terror on Satanick’s face, the way his body shrunk back as if he was cornered prey – it was all too much! Fumus shut his eyes as the first pricks of tears formed at his eyes. His stomach was starting to hurt from laughing too hard, and he wrapped his arms around his gut, bending forward to help relieve some of the pressure. He cracked open his eyes a bit to catch a glimpse of Satanick, still pressed against the bathroom door as he trembled. Tears were spilling down his cheeks but not in the same emotion that Fumus’s were.

It was not exactly how Fumus had planned the evening to go, but this display was just as sweet. He dare say it was even better than listening to Satanick’s screams of terror.

Finally managing to compose himself a bit more, Fumus slowly straightened his body. The aching muscles in his gut were quite sore, but this was a delightful pain getting to see Satanick’s own. As the last few chuckles drifted over Fumus’s lips, he raised his right hand up, using the back of his index finger to flick away the tears that had accumulated at his eye corners. “Oh, Satanick, you should see the look on your face,” he crooned out. “What a sight to behold.”

Satanick did not move an inch. In pure petrification, the only movement was that of his incredibly small pupils that shivered in those pond-like eyes that overflowed.

Giving a final huff of a chuckle, Fumus deeply took a breath in through his nostrils to refill his lungs with air. He slowly let it out in a steady wisp, ruffling Satanick’s bangs as he slowly moved in closer towards him. Still, the boy did not move. Had he perhaps broken him? He highly doubted he had, and his suspicions were confirmed after he placed his left hand atop Satanick’s left shoulder. The boy jolted as if he wanted to leap out of his skin, and he slightly choked out a yelp in the back of his throat. His eyes refocused on Fumus now, and the older boy smiled at Satanick – a mixture of a look that spoke of fake concern and gloating.

“You best go wash up now, Satanick, before we are late for dinner. And perhaps use the lavatory while you are it. You’re so pale you look like you’re about to piss yourself.”

With that final word, Fumus’s laughter trailed behind him as he walked away from Satanick and down the hallway. It would be best to not be seen near the dirty, sniveling mess and have to contrive some elaborate lie on what the problem was. Nearing the end of the hallway to turn towards the left to make his way upstairs to his bedroom, Fumus turned to look one last time down the hallway at Satanick. The boy remained exactly where he had left him – still as a statue, yet his head was now turned to watch Fumus. Lifting a hand to wave a parting goodbye, Fumus continued his trek.

As his socks softly met the carpeted steps, he pondered exactly what would be for dinner tonight. Perhaps he should put in a request for rabbit stew tomorrow. 


End file.
